


Cloudy Minds and Hazy Veins

by TheSheGavin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Cloudy Veins AU, Cocaine, Codependency, Crystal Meth, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Experimentation, Drug Use, Ecstasy - Freeform, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Guns, M/M, Multi, Possible Character Death, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, There will be violence, dunno yet, not really rape but kinda rape, rape with drunk consent?, smut in some chapters, sorry - Freeform, various other drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSheGavin/pseuds/TheSheGavin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael "Mike" Jones has been addicted for a few months. Ryan "Mad King" Haywood just needed to scrap the cash together for college. Gavin Free has been on the stuff since he was eighteen. Jack "J" Pattillo needed to crawl out of debt and get enough money to propose to his girlfriend. Ray "Vez" Narvaez Jr. just needed to feel wanted. Geoff "Lazer" Ramsey wanted to protect his pregnant girlfriend.</p><p>Turns out what they want and what they get are completely different. What happens when all their worlds collide and send the pieces spattering apart like blood on a wall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Begin

**Author's Note:**

> I don't do drugs, so excuse every single error ever. This required a lot of research and it's a pain in the ass to change writing styles six times, so please excuse the inconsistency and point out EVERY SINGLE FLAW. I mean it. Do it.

~*~

 

Lemme tell you, dark alley ways? Not my forte. I was okay with grimy strip clubs, restaurant bathrooms, disgusting bars, and just about anything else to get my fix. 

 

But there was something about the alley off of Krane Street that made me feel like the shadows were going to drag me into their murk.

 

I grit my teeth. Quit being stupid. The shadows can't do shit, and it's been too long. It's either now, or pass the fuck out and risk death. I step into the alley, ignoring my fear. It had rained recently, and my feet slushed into puddles, soaking my shoes completely, but I didn't care, didn't care. I needed that stupid dealer and I need the stupid-

 

"There you are. I was worried you dropped on the way here. You seem to have a death wish, what with how much you ordered." A man about my height spoke, leaning into the shadows just enough to shroud himself.

 

"I slept past the fucking alarm. Can you just give me the shit so I can leave, Lazer?" I snap at him, feeling my hands shaking. I was nervous again, for no reason. I was always nervous. Skittish. Angry.

 

"Mike, you seriously need to chill out with this. You're gonna kill yourself with this high of a dosage." Lazer scolded with worried eyes. Again with the fucking eyes.

 

"Just gimme the shit. I paid good money in advance because I know that you're reliable. Now give." I growl through gritted teeth, feeling a surge of something inside myself that made me want to explode.

 

"Mike, I'm serious. If you don't cut back a little bit-"

 

I'm going to hate myself later for this.

 

I laid a hand on his chest, guiding him back against the wall gently. I cooed, despite my frustration, leaning in close to him. This wasn't the first time I've seduced him into just giving me my damn fix.

 

"Please, Lazer? You know I need it. Maybe I could give you a little extra incentive." My hand trailed down to the bottom of his stomach, just applying a slight pressure. Geoff gave a look of restraint as he grabbed me by the wrist.

 

"I don't need incentive, I just need to know that you won't go doing this all at once. Space it out."

 

I raised my free hand with a roll of my eyes, "Scout's honor. Now will you stop mothering me?"

 

"I'm watching you, Mike. I don't want to have you calling me in a week saying you need more." He dropped my wrist and allowed me to take a step back.

 

"Got it."

 

Lazer lifted a backpack out from behind a few trash cans and held it out for me to take.

 

"I gave you new needles just in case you want the faster rush, but it's mostly your usual." Lazer seemed impassive now.

 

"Thanks." I snatched the bag from him. I needed a fix soon.

 

"Don't thank me." He sighed, "I'm sending you to your death, kid."

 

"Well, I'll give my parents a wave from death row. See ya 'round."

 

"I sure hope so." Lazer spoke softly, just barely audible as I walked away without another word.

 

~*~

 

It was a mad dash. A sprint between me and those damned shadows.

 

They followed me everywhere, and especially when I had waiting too long for a fix. They followed close, nipping at my feet, caressing my shoulders. I could barely breathe. I was almost too tired to run, but the claustrophobia made it easier to stay awake.

 

By the time I had gotten back to my apartment, I was falling over myself. I locked myself inside after receiving a strange look from several people lingering outside in various places. Probably because I look like shit.

 

I fell on the couch, nearly ripping the bag open. There were already a few pre-rolled smokes, and a few clean syringes.

 

I just knew I needed the rush. And I needed it bad.

 

I took the syringe and filled it with shaky hands - I did pretty well with not spilling it all over the damn place - before finding the vein. It thrummed under my fingers, and the feeling always brought me adrenaline surges. It reminded me that I'm not dead yet, so I'm okay.

 

I shut my eyes as I let the needle push against the vein. It was a good sting, an odd sensation that brought me to life. I pressed the plunger down, feeling the odd tingle of an overflow of liquid in my veins. By the time I pumped all that the syringe would let me, my head was already lightening. My eyes cleared away from the shadows, bringing me to full awareness. I can see, I can breathe, I'm alive again. I stand up from the couch and start my routine. It didn't matter that it was almost four in the morning. Crystal ran time for me. The drug drove me to go about my day. I would dressed in something presentable, head out to the grimiest pub I know, and start fights. It was such a rush, provoking someone to the point of fighting for their life. Like cornering an animal.

 

I know the stupid meth runs me ragged, but Lazer tries to dial it back sometimes in my doses. He did that once for only half the batch and made me overdose. Blue-eyed bastard.

 

All I knew is that I needed someone to fight. I needed this energy to go somewhere.

 

Now I just needed to find a little animal.


	2. Bloody Knuckles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point out the horrible flaws please. Do the thing.

~*~

Interesting.

 

After giving my little usual what he could pay for, I decided to stop by Seedy's, a bar just south of the Meet and Greet, otherwise known as the black market. It was interesting to see Free scrabble over such a petty drug when we met for the third time this month, especially cocaine. 

 

It's funny to think I experiment on my best customer, giving him mixtures with his normal order. He isn't the wiser, though, which is surprising since he almost died from it. Twice. Not a mistake I'll make a third time. All I want is to make him more dependent, but not enough to kill him. Just enough to make him owe me favors.

 

Because God only knows how much I enjoy getting those favors from that kid.

 

"Hey Ry, haven't seen you around in awhile." The bartender greeted. Burnie, of course. It's Saturday.

 

"I've been busy. You know, college and things." I improvised. I've really been busy trying to get more money from Free so I can pay for my tuition this year. Then he can die for all I care.

 

"Ah, right. How's that going? Still handling everything okay?"

 

Burnie was always a worrier. He knew I had some mental instability, and I went to therapy for it multiple times, but I learned to control it, letting it go in short bursts.

 

I could hear the door slam open, and I knew this might be an opportunity for one of those short bursts.

 

I glanced over my shoulder, sizing up the guy who was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. Definitely a druggie. Was he on speed? No, from the look in his eye, it's meth. Gotta be. He was muscular, but I could easily take him. His glasses were slightly bent, probably from a fight before. He had scars, and there was some scabs on the inside of his arm. Injection. Meaning he'd crash sooner than he may expect.

 

The man caught my stare, but just for a brief moment. I turned around to face the bar, and Burnie had a nervous look in his eyes as he wiped down the counter.

 

"He a usual?" I smirked, flicking a crumpled straw wrapper at him.

 

"I wish he wasn't, but yeah. He always causes trouble." Burnie grumbled to himself.

 

"You want me to handle him?" I quirked a brow, a playful smile on my face. I could use a fight.

 

"He's already headed your way." 

 

I glance over my shoulder again. He was definitely walking this way, but his eyes weren't on me.

 

He hopped up on the stool next to me, giving Burnie a look that spelled trouble.

 

"Hey Burns, can you gimme the usual?"

 

"The usual? Mike, your usual is a water and a victim." Burnie laughed, but I could tell it was forced.

 

"Yeah, well, let's make a different usual. I want whatever he's having." Mike nodded to me with a grin. His hands were shaking, but just barely. Overdose?

 

"I don't think that's wise." I spoke with a gentle tone, like a seemingly submissive human with a rabid dog.

 

"Well, why not?" Mike's grin disappeared, replacing itself with confusion.

 

I leaned closer, a malicious smile tainting my lips as I lowered my voice to a deadly octave.

 

"You really want to mix drugs with alcohol? Not smart on your part." 

 

Mike's look hardened behind his glasses. He ran a hand through his hair, which he tugged on his brown locks like he wanted to rip his hair out, "Is it really that easy to figure?"

 

"You left evidence on the inside of your arm. You're shaking. You're filled to the brim with energy. Meaning you've got a craving for speed or crystal, and I'm betting on the latter."

 

Mike's face was a mask of indifference for a long moment.

 

"So, dealer then. What do they call you?"

 

"It doesn't matter what they call me." I turn away from him to face Burnie, who is glancing between us. He tapped his finger twice, then paused, then three times on the countertop. Code to tell me to take it easy and calm down.

 

"Yes it does. Only a handful of good dealers can identify this shit at the bat of an eye."

 

I wasn't about to tell him my dealer name. My drugs are worth less than the bounty on my head for not only the police, but the Meet and Greet too. If I'm not careful, I'll bump into the wrong person, and by the way Mike was gritting his teeth, I'm assuming he's the wrong person. 

 

"I'm very explicit about my customers, and you know as well as I do that good dealers are wanted ones." I tap once on the counter. A simple no. Burnie looks like he's about to say something when Mike launches at me.

 

I don't see it coming at first. I feel his fist connect to my jaw, and what happened next was a blur.

 

All I knew is that I was trying to kill him.

 

Once I snapped, I had no control until whatever inside my head is satisfied with the destruction I created.

 

"Ryan! Shit, get off him! He's out!" Burnie was practically screaming in my ear, pulling at my arms. I could easily get out of his grip, but judging from the blood on my knuckles, I had won. Apparently it was all the incentive I needed to snap out of my daze.

 

I was sitting on top of Mike's chest, and judging by how bad he looked, he needed a hospital. The few customers that were here earlier were long gone.

 

I got up off him, checking over myself. Aside from my aching jaw, I only had a few sore spots. My knuckles were split, explaining why there was so much blood.

 

"Go get an ambulance. I gotta go patch up." I state blandly before heading in the backroom of the bar. This wasn't the first time I had to fight someone, and it wasn't the first time I had to give myself stitches.

 

I would bite down on the end of a towel and use the needle I used to keep here, along with the medical thread. It would hurt more than the actual wound. But I would do it, because my life called for it.

 

All I hoped was that Mike would never run into me again. For his own sake rather than mine.


	3. Strong Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please help me fix British terms. If I need to spell things differently, or switch out words, please tell me. I need to know.

~*~

 

This is a horrible place to do this.

 

But I need it. I need it, I need it, and I need it now.

 

My hands are shaking more than anything, but Mad King already filled up a syringe for me. All I had to do was find the vein. Then the fear will go away. Then the sadness will go away. Just one dose, that's all.

 

I pressed the needle into my skin, nearly wanting to vomit. I hated how it looked, a needle breaking skin like a knife breaking up meat. But this was the quickest way.

 

I pressed the fluid into my skin and waited. I counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

 

I could feel the weight in the bottom of my stomach lift. My head started to clear. I felt like I wasn't the worst person in the world. 

 

Good. Good.. But it won't last. Gotta do one more thing.

 

I tossed the needle to the side, and it shattered against the road. That's right, the main road. Bad place to do this. I could get caught. I don't care enough.

 

I dig into the bag he gave me, searching, searching, searching..

 

Got it.

 

I pull out a bag of small pills. I'm still unsure how Mad even got them, but it was a payment for a few favours I gave him last week. I didn't even like the guy too much, but his drugs were to die for. 

 

I press the pill against my tongue and swallow. It should hold me over. It should more than hold me over if Mad did it right.

 

I stood up on shaky legs. I'll be fine, I just need to get moving.

 

My head was spinning as I wandered farther down the road. I knew what that meant. It meant I was in trouble. I needed to dump these drugs somewhere I would remember.

 

I knew the abandoned building to my left. No one used it except to sleep in the Basement, and there were trash cans in the back lot. No one ever touched them, so all I had to do was hide it in one.

 

I hopped the fence, which was only as high as my waist, and dropped the bag in a toppled can before pushing the lid shut. Better safe than sorry.

 

I walked back over to the fence, my vision swimming. The colours of the world were starting to blend together, and my footsteps seemed too loud.

There was a lot of light coming down the street, and I could hear it was a car. I needed to hide. I know they can tell, I know they can tell and then call the cops and then I'll be arrested and die.

 

I dropped to the ground, laying on my stomach. The fence was rickety wood, spaces in between each board, but it was enough to give me cover. The car roared by, a blur of every colour I could think of. 

 

I could barely stand. My feet were swaying underneath me, along with the world, rocking me with some sort of odd lullaby. I tried hopping the fence again, but I really rolled over the edge and fell to the ground. My breathing was erratic, inoutinoutinout. All I could think about was getting across the street and not vomiting, but as soon as I stood up, the latter wasn't an option anymore.

 

My world was curling around me, bringing spiders from the shadows and demons melting from the harsh street lamps to puddle on the ground and slither toward me. I stumbled and twisted to try and avoid the figments.

 

Last thing I remember is that monster of light speeding towards me and the darkness afterwards.


	4. Sweaty Clubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to a sleezy nightclub, so bare with me here.

~*~

 

I hated the sound of sirens. They were loud, noisy, and spelled danger.

 

I'm not usually an antsy person, but at times like these, where I'm stuck in the back of a sweaty club, ambulance sirens blaring outside nearby, and Vez missing, I was allowed to be antsy.

 

My back was sticking to the wall and my forehead felt slick with sweat. I still don't get why Vez likes it here. Maybe it was just the drug -the idiot likes to take ecstasy, of all things - or maybe it was the only place where he could get banged quicker than any prostitute could.

 

I pushed off the wall, my hands in my pockets. I had two months worth this time, seeing as how Vez went through a month's worth in only two weeks. He was building tolerance, which was not good. 

 

I stayed outside the throng of the crowd, scanning for Vez. He wasn't hard to find. He was possibly the most social dancer, and practically fucked on the dance floor.

 

I felt a hand rest against my waist as someone slipped into my view.

 

"Aww, I've been looking all over for you!" Vez grinned with hooded eyes, pressing his chest flush against mine. He was sticky with sweat, and judging by his mussed hair, he just got caught up with another willing girl or guy. His glasses were missing, which was odd, and he was shirtless with shorts. Also odd.

 

"You haven't been looking that hard." I frowned, pushing back gently to get a little space. It was strange, but I never saw Vez on the drug. Just when he has withdrawal. I've heard so many stories though. Vez kept a hand on my waist, trying to draw me closer.

 

"Sure I did. I wanted to find you originally to see if you would cave for me, but I just couldn't wait." Vez gave something that sounded like an excited giggle. Definitely odd.

 

"Well, I have your stuff if you want it. And when did you last have something to drink?"

 

"It's been a couple hours. I think I could take an itty bitty break." Vez's hand strayed from my waist, but I batted his hand away with a stern glare. I wasn't here for that. I wasn't here to be his toy in the slightest.

 

Vez pouted - fucking pouted - and grabbed ahold of my hand to steer me away from the edge of the crowd, "No need to be such a downer, babe."

 

"We talked about this, Vez. I am not here for your amusement. Business only. And if you call me babe again, I'll make sure to mix your shit with cyanide." I snap, yanking my hand out of his.

 

"Aw, calm down J. No need to ruffle up your fur like a pissy kitty." Vez laughed, giving a quick tug on my beard before hopping down the stairs to the semi quiet bar.

 

"Then stop provoking me."

 

Vez climbed onto a barstool and began to ask for something fruity that I noticed as alcohol, so I interrupted him and asked for just a plain water.

 

"Why can't I have any fun when you're around?" Vez sighed, giving me a sidelong glance.

 

"Because your version of fun is going to get you killed. We talked about this. Drink water or-"

 

"Or I'll dehydrate, yeah, yeah." Vez finished, giving a relenting huff as he sipped at the water placed in front of him.

 

"All I want to know is if you have my money." I hissed under my breath.

 

"What, you think I dick around - quite literally - for free?" Vez grinned, pulling out some money that was rolled up and tied off with a rubber band, "Go ahead and count it off. It should be everything."

 

As much as I hated Vez's habit, he wasn't my worst customer.

 

I counted through the money quickly - which everything seemed to be in order - and gave him one last once over. 

 

"Don't you dare overdose on me."

 

"If I live through this month, can I get a go with you?" Vez questioned, a playful look gracing his face.

 

"No."

 

"Eh, worth a try."

 

I handed over the bottles of pills a little grudgingly. As much as I didn't want to admit it, Vez was a good friend. I'd hate to seem him die from something so petty.

 

"Thanks J. Maybe I'll hook you up with a cute girl or something next time you swing by here." Vez sent me a wink and walked off with his water.

 

I really worry about that kid.


	5. Feeling Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, sorry.

~*~

 

I don't care how attractive she is, I know what kidnappers sound like.

 

"Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet with me?" The blonde questioned, twining her hand with mine, "Maybe we could head back to my place."

 

That's really, really bad idea.

 

I took my hand from hers, seeming to think it over, when in all reality, I wasn't. 

 

"I dunno. I have a lot I need to do tomorrow. Plus, I'm not really interested in leaving just yet."

 

"Oh, c'mon, don't be such a buzz kill." She whined, closing the space in between us. Her hands rested on my waist, but they didn't really stop there. She slid closer to my crotch, and I immediately stepped back, pushing her hands away.

 

"No, you know what? I'm not interested." I spoke with my determined, not-taking-any-of-your-shit voice. I turned away and started to leave when she snatched my hand and yanked me back.

 

"You shut the fuck up. You're coming whether you like it or not."

 

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a voice that I recognized so well spoke in a deadly tone.

 

"Excuse me, but what are you doing with my boyfriend?" Joel growled at her. He was taller than her, which definitely gave a little to the intimidation factor, and she dropped my hand quickly.

 

"Oh, he never told me that he had a boyfriend." She spoke gently, seemingly quiet and far from how she was acting a minute ago.

 

"Well, now you know. Step off." Joel hissed, and the blonde gave a huff before leaving quickly.

 

Joel's eyes turned to me, but they were so much gentler than the daggers he was sending after her.

 

"You alright, Vez?" 

 

"Yeah, I'm fine." I reply with a little smile. Joel was my favorite, and while he wasn't really my boyfriend, I liked to think he was. He protected me and came to my aid whenever I was even slightly in danger, meaning that he was watching me a lot. As creepy as that may sound, it's really like having a hot guardian angel following me around.

 

"Good. That bitch was starting to get on my nerves." He laughed. It was odd, but under the club lights, Joel's hair was more purple than it was black. 

 

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his jawline, curling his shirt around my fist to keep a good hold on him. As weird as it sounds, Joel never saw me off my high, except once when I actually trusted him enough to stay the night with me. I had a panic attack that same morning, and that's when he found out that I even took the drug in the first place. He still cared, but he liked me better on the my high than on my low.

 

I eventually met his lips with mine, and he kissed me with everything that he had. I had to slow him down after a few seconds to try and coax him into one of the back rooms so we didn't try to bang against the wall, as appealing as it sounds. 

 

He eventually agreed (after giving me a hickey, the cute bastard) and nearly carried me to the secluded room behind the bar. The light was just dim enough to silhouette everything, and Joel's face was even more perfect in low lighting. 

 

I didn't even care that the drug was the only reason why Joel wanted me. I didn't care if I had to take more and more pills and deal with feeling like shit in the morning.

 

All I wanted was to feel wanted. Is that so bad?


	6. Ambulance Lights

~*~

 

He better not be fucking dead.

 

I was just trying to get home. I was already nervous about Mike killing himself through an overdose, and now there's some kid that passed out in front of my car from an OD of cocaine and hallucinogens. Or that's what the imps from the ambulance said. I fucking hate those guys.

 

"Well, it's a good thing you called us. The kid would've been good as dead without respiratory aid." One of the imps sounded so nonchalant. Like that poor kid wasn't a person. Like he was an animal.

 

"Did you find out his name?" I ask, ignoring how uncaring he sounded.

 

"Yeah. Gavin Free, apparently. The ID says he's twenty-one, but he doesn't even seem that old. We won't know for sure until we get the police involved."

 

The imps pulled Gavin onto a stretcher. I can't help but feel sick. The kid was so skinny. His hair stuck up in odd places, and he was pale. He looked like he was only eighteen at most.

 

"Can I come with him? Make sure he gets to the hospital alright?" I shift my weight back and forth between my feet. Left. Right. Left. Right.

 

"Sorry, mister.. Ramsey, was it? We can't allow it unless you have a relation with him." The imp sighed, as if he was bored. Disgusting asshole.

 

"Please, just call me Geoff." I state monotonously, "I just hope he's okay. I feel bad for the kid."

 

"You shouldn't. He's just another druggie." The imp left my side and hopped into the back of the ambulance, eyeing Gavin once before meeting my glare, "Seriously, they're useless. But we'll keep him alive." 

 

I've never hated those bastards more than I do now.

 

After they left, I got back in the car and headed home. I was already late, but that's okay. As long as that kid got some help..

 

Griffon was going to kill me. 

 

This was the third time this week I was late home. And her hormones were raging anyways from the kid. Three months pregnant and she was already irritable. I still loved her though.

 

"Geoff! Where the hell have you been?" Griffon shouted from the couch when she heard the door open.

 

"I had to call an ambulance for some kid. He was on coke and hallucinogens and passed out in front of the car." I offer as a reply. 

 

Silence.

 

I learned really early on that being truthful was better than not. Griffon nearly killed me when she found out I started dealing, but she still loved me. She's just a little disappointed.

 

"Is he okay?" Griffon's voice was softer now. She was always sympathetic for the kids.

 

"They said he should be fine." I lied through a clenched jaw. They didn't care about him enough to keep his heart beating.

 

"That's good.. Did you get his name?" Griffon mumbled as I wandered into the living room and sat beside her. She paused her show. It looked like one of the singing competitions or something.

 

"Yeah. Gavin Free, I'm pretty sure." I wasn't pretty sure. I knew. The look on that kids face and the imps words were ingrained in my head.

 

"You should visit him tomorrow.. Just to make sure." Griffon looked at me with an expression that I just couldn't say no to. She looked so upset.

 

"I can do that. Do you want to come with me or-"

 

"I'll stay home." Griffon interrupted softly. I knew she didn't like hospitals. I was okay with that.

 

I didn't respond. I just grabbed the remote, pulled her against me, and pressed play.


	7. Hospital Plans

~*~

 

{Mike}

 

It was way too fucking bright.

 

I expected to wake up in my apartment, hopefully next to my girlfriend, but maybe not. I, at least, expected to wake up in the bar.

 

My face really fucking hurt. The whole room was this dumbass shade of white, and I was missing my shirt. Meaning I was in the hospital.

 

God. Fucking. Damn it.

 

I check over myself for what exactly was wrong. My back ached from where that bastard slammed me on the floor. I ran my tongue along my lips, wincing when I found stitches on my lower one. I had a gauze on my cheek, and another on my forehead. A migraine pounded in my head, and I wondered when I last had a fix. 

 

Judging from how fucking exhausted, hungry, and upset I felt, I assumed it's been almost twelve hours. The injection doesn't carry that long.

 

I glanced around the room, and I noticed I wasn't the only one in here. There was a fucking kid to my left- no. Not a kid.

 

I recognized him from somewhere. I'm pretty sure we met waiting at the same alley once. He called himself.. Something. Started with an F.

 

I tried to sit up, but as soon as I moved, pain shot through me like bullets. Shit. I must've bruised or cracked a rib.

 

I grit my teeth and sit up all the way. The foot of the guy's bed was facing my own, since the room was split in half by some invisible line. There was a little clipboard with a name scrawled at the top hanging on it.

 

Gavin Free.

 

That's right. He had the Mad King as his dealer. 

 

And.. And that was the same guy at the bar.

 

Holy shit.

 

I read on. Cocaine overdose and hallucinogens. He's twenty-one, just a year younger than me. He's from England, so what's he doing here in the slums?

 

I didn't doubt that the hallucinogens found in his body were from MK. Bastard liked to experiment, and he was one of the most dangerous dealers.

 

I glance over Gavin for a minute. He was smaller than before. Unhealthily skinny, and nearly as white as the sheets under him. He had several IVs in his arms. By the way he looked, he was either in a coma or near death. He didn't have his heart monitor on, which I thought was odd, but I could see the rise and fall of his chest. It was shallow, but there.

 

I felt really bad for him. Not just because of his dealer or the drug he was stuck on, but because this was the kind of thing where he thought he didn't have a choice about anything anymore. I know, because I've been there before.

 

I give a glance at my own clipboard. It was weird to see my actual name. No one called me Michael anymore except for Lindsay. The board listed that I was on crystal meth, that I got in a fight with someone from the bar, then listed my injuries.

 

I was right about the bruised ribs. There was nothing major except for the busted lip and a few head wounds. I had a mild concussion.

 

I heard Gavin stir, but he didn't move much. Just a little shift, but his eyes fluttered open. The look on his face was so calm until he realized his surroundings. Then he just looked damn terrified. 

 

His eyes found me, and I've never seen anyone so fucking scared in my life.

 

"Wh-who are you?" He nearly whispered, but his accent was noticeable regardless.

 

"Michael. We've met before." 

 

"Y-you can't be real. I've never s-seen you before."

 

I give him a look of confusion. I didn't see a fucking concussion on his list, though I didn't really give it a long look.

 

"Maybe you'd know the name Mike better, Free."

 

Gavin stared at me, wide-eyed, for a long moment. He seemed almost comforted.

 

"You're with Lazer. Why are you here?"

 

"Got in a fight with your dealer. Didn't end well for me. I didn't even recognize him at first."

 

"Mad did that to you?" He didn't even look shocked. Just curious.

 

"Yeah. Yeah he did. He also did all of that," I motion to the IVs and just him in general, "to you. You ODed on your drug, and he added hallucinogens."

 

"God damn /bastard./" Gavin muttered, pissed off, "He did it again."

 

"You need a new dealer, dude. I could talk to Lazer, if you want. That is, if we get out of here without the cops riding our ass."

 

"I don't need a new dealer. Mad's the only one who'll get me the strong stuff, and I need it." Gavin muttered before burying his head in his shaky hands, " And shit, I really need it."

 

I watched him for a few seconds before averting my eyes. Did I really look that pathetic when I needed my own fix?

 

An abrupt sob filled the room, and it was enough to make me wince.

 

"I just want to die. I want to die and not fucking feel this anymore."

 

I send him a glare. Does he need to be so fucking /pathetic/? I would go fucking hit him if I didn't think it would kill him because he was so weak.

 

"Stop being a pathetic piece of shit. Seriously Gavin, when I saw you a few months ago, you were a cocky piece of shit, but now you're just a fucking wreck." I hiss at him, balling up the thin blanket at the foot of my bed and throwing it at him. It hit him in the head and covered his face, officially shielding him from view. He didn't bother moving it.

 

"You're more worthless if you sit there sniveling. Start thinking of a way to avoid the cops unless you want to go to prison or face a fine for illegal drugs."

 

Gavin is motionless for a few moments before pulling the blanket slowly off of his head. There was such a fucking mischievous look in his eyes, like I just sparked something inside him that he was waiting for.

 

"How long do you think it'll take for you to be good enough to move?"

 

"Maybe a few days. Maybe a week."

 

"How well do you drive?" Gavin had such a serious look on his face, tears still visible, but I could almost hear the excitement in his voice.

 

"I drive like a fucking maniac, if that's what your asking." I smirk, wincing at the pain in my lips.

 

"Then we're busting out of here the first chance we get. No way in hell am I going to pay those knobs."

 

"I couldn't agree more."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment the flaws. Spelling errors, stupid things, incoherencies, etc. Please and thanks.


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